


don't look back again

by ninemoons42



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition - Kiriya - Original Flavor [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Issues, Letters from Home, Strained Relationships, Strained family relationships, the inquisitor needs a fucking drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiriya needs more than a glass of wine to tell Cullen about the matter of her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't look back again

“...and that is where matters currently stand,” Leliana finished, carefully moving a series of tokens across the War Table. “We should have more information in a day or two. If only it would stop raining; the ravens cannot fly very far nor very quickly in this weather.”

Kiriya uncrossed her arms, and reached out to tap one of the pawns. “Do what you must, but don’t forget: we need food, we need minerals, we need so many other things,” she said. “We have many souls to feed and shelter here, and more are sure to come if the mages continue to spread the word.”

“I will make that a priority.”

“Thank you, Leliana,” Kiriya said, and only then did she venture a smile. “If there is nothing else?”

The response to that was a rustle, and an apologetic cough.

She turned, and Josephine approached the War Table, and it was strange to see her without her pen -- for she was carrying something else in the hand that was not holding her clipboard up. “Sincere apologies for my late arrival, Inquisitor -- or perhaps I should address you as Lady Trevelyan instead?”

At the sound of the other title, Kiriya gritted her teeth, and just barely stayed in place -- she had such an overwhelming _need_ to run. “You didn’t. No, that’s unfair to you, Josephine, my apologies. What I meant to say was -- _he_ didn’t.”

Josephine looked sad as she placed two folded parchments on the table. “No apologies are needed. And -- I’m afraid that he did.”

Kiriya shook her head. “I’ve seen the two that came before these and -- no. I will not.”

“Then I will,” Leliana said, the brusque words frayed with sympathy, and she produced a knife from somewhere on her person, and broke the seal on the first parchment. 

Kiriya watched the wrinkles in the corners of her spymaster’s eyes deepen as she scanned the letter.

“This is -- imperiously worded,” Leliana finally said. “He _demands_ that you come to him for _inspection_ \-- Void take him, does he think of you as livestock? -- but that is most certainly not possible. Not today, not tomorrow, not for a long time.”

“You cannot leave us, Inquisitor,” Josephine chimed in. “This is a precarious time.”

“It is that,” Kiriya said, and she felt _relief_ break upon her in welcome waves.

“Precarious times indeed,” and the door opened and closed a second time to admit Cullen -- who was shaking water out of his face and off his gauntlets. “Damn this rain; it’s been three days. I begrudge every moment that the soldiers and the mages are not training. We need to be ready for a fight -- ”

Kiriya watched him approach the War Table, watched him pick the second parchment up. “Is there a reason,” he said, carefully, “why no one is reading this?”

Leliana sighed, and passed him the first parchment.

“The same seal -- so they’ve come from the same place? Who is writing to the Inquisitor with such high-handed words?”

He looked so protective and grim at the same time, as he opened the seal on the second parchment. “Bann Trevelyan?” And Cullen looked up.

Kiriya forced herself to meet his eyes. “That would be my -- my father, yes,” she said, cursing herself for her hesitation.

And she watched his eyebrows draw together into a deep frown.

“If I might be so bold to presume,” Josephine said, gently, “this seems to be a matter for the two of you to discuss -- but not here.”

“If you wish to carry on this conversation,” Leliana added as she began to stalk towards the door, “I might suggest wine. Or something stronger. This is a matter, Inquisitor, that you should not approach in your current state of mind.” Her words were followed by another set of footsteps, and then the harsh _crack_ of the door closing.

“Is she actually saying what I thought she was saying?” Cullen asked. “Is she saying you need to _drink_ to talk about this?”

Kiriya shivered, and not because of the cold -- she wrapped her arms around herself and looked down at her feet. “There is something about this particular topic that has nearly _driven_ me to drink.”

A finger at her chin, and a gentle push -- and she was looking up into Cullen’s eyes, into deep pools of sympathy and sincerity. “Then come on. I might have a bottle or two secreted away in my office. We can talk about this matter, or we can just drink -- I admit I have some questions but I am also aware that this is not just private talk.” He paused, and kissed her gently. 

She pulled him down to her level in response, needing the warmth of his forehead and the brush of his still-damp hair. “It’s not,” she confirmed. “It’s going to be _painful_.”

Something seemed to harden in the lines of his face. “Leliana’s right, we’re not going to be sober for this. Come on.”

She let herself cling to his steady hand as they dashed towards his tower -- she _needed_ to cling to him, needed to reassure herself -- she needed a reminder. She wasn’t in Ostwick, she wasn’t in the Free Marches, she was in Skyhold, she was among friends -- 

“Here,” Cullen said, and Kiriya blinked, and took the towel from his hand. 

“And you?” she asked, as she wrung out her hair.

“Nice thing about armor,” was his response. “It does tend to keep the rain out, except at the joints.” She watched him stoke the fire and rummage around in one of the crates near his desk -- and when he straightened, he was holding a bottle and a pair of wooden cups. “I can go down to the Herald’s Rest if you want something else -- ”

And Kiriya couldn’t stand it any longer; she rushed across the room and threw her arms around him. “Please stay, please stay.”

The weight of his arms around her, the warmth of him as he embraced her, the smell of rain lingering in the hollow of his throat -- she held on to him so that she could hold on to herself.

“I’m here,” and only then did she let herself be led to the low bench next to the fireplace.

Pop of the wine bottle being opened. Cullen passed her a half-full cup. “Drink that first,” he said.

Cullen was so good and so patient and he was here with her, she was watching the movement of his throat as he drank from his own cup, and he wasn’t going to judge her -- he _wouldn’t_ \--

“You have two sisters and a brother,” she began. “I had four sisters. Imagine the chaos, imagine the fighting, imagine taking sides. Imagine being -- being _different_.”

“Different how?”

“All of my sisters joined the Chantry -- two of them became clerics, and the other two eventually joined the Templars. But I -- I didn’t want to follow in their footsteps. I wanted to do something else. Travel the world. Learn something different. See the things I’d read about in my books.” 

Cullen was nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“When I came of age, Father sent me to the chantry where one of my sisters was training to become a Templar and told me to choose my vocation.” She felt her lips curl up into a bitter smile. “I chose something, all right. I chose to run away.

“I fell in with a group of mercenaries. Well, perhaps _group_ is too generous. There were perhaps three or four left when I came across them, all of them women. I was lucky: at first they were amused by the silly naive little girl who knew her way around a sword but not around a knife or two -- and then, eventually, they chose to teach me everything they knew.”

“That includes the way you sometimes hold your knives.” Cullen refilled the wooden cups.

“It took me a long time to be able to fight effectively in that style.”

“And your father?”

“I had no word from him for years -- and then the last of my friends passed on, but not without telling me that she knew someone in my family. A distant relative. Aunt Shinna -- who took me in, without asking any questions, once I told her about my father.” Kiriya looked into her wine, and then downed it in one gulp. “It turned out she’d left Ostwick for, I guess, the same reasons I’d had. Didn’t want to be pressed into the service of the family.

“And then, well, Divine Justinia died and the Conclave was called and -- she felt she had to go.” She reached for Cullen’s free hand, and he gave it, ready and warm and strong. “She went to support the mages, and then there was the matter of our family names, and things got -- ” She bit her lip, then, but that didn’t stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks.

“Things got complicated.” Cullen, too, sounded grave and haunted, and she put her cup down and put her arms around him.

There was silence, and then: “How many letters has Bann Trevelyan sent you?”

Kiriya sighed. “When I received one I took it back to Josephine and explained the situation, and she understood, but we had to compromise: the Inquisition protects Ostwick, too. So I agreed to read the letters and she agreed to, ah, _neglect_ to write back.”

“So today’s letters -- ”

“I think Bann Trevelyan might have figured our scheme out.” Kiriya hid her face against his shoulder. “If the next thing he does is _come here_ I won’t be held responsible for what befalls him.”

“I’ll help you with that, if you’d let me,” and the words were spoken lightly, but she could hear the underlying steel of him. “And I’m sure that if I asked around, some people might have some ideas, too. You could set the Bull and Sera and Dorian on him.”

“For _starters_ ,” Kiriya sighed, and she chuckled, brittle and bitter and brief.

“We’ll think of something, and I’m not just talking about you and me,” Cullen said as he poured out the last of the wine. “Your companions. Josephine and Leliana. I wouldn’t be surprised if even Mother Giselle might have something to say about this.” 

“Cullen,” Kiriya heard herself say.

“It’s going to be all right. We’re with you.” She watched him toast her with his wooden cup. “That is a promise.”

Kiriya smiled, the corners of her eyes prickling with tears, and pulled him in for a kiss that was half a sob.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) and my Dragon Age: Inquisition blog is [here](http://ninemoons42-inquisition.tumblr.com/).


End file.
